


thinking about your hazy (loveless) eyes.

by orphan_account



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Gen, M/M, SPY AU FOR ATEEZ BECAUSE YHATS ALL IM CAPABLE OF WRITING, Unresolved Romantic Tension, san is a light sleeper that’s it that’s literally the whole plot, this is the part of a bigger universe that i’ll be writing soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 16:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18347756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I’m not being cowardly, hyung.” San flinches. He’s never heard Hongjoong this venomous before. “You’re just being needlessly selfish. I told you I can’t stay, and — “—San knows Seonghwa and Hongjoong are arguing about something serious. He just wishes it didn’t pain him so much to hear it sometimes.





	thinking about your hazy (loveless) eyes.

 

San wakes up to the sound of muffled arguing from the hallway.

 

The only reason he doesn’t leave the warmth of his bed to check on the noise is because he knows who they were and what they were arguing about. It’s not a secret that Seonghwa and Hongjoong are going through what Yunho calls a minor spat. If the constant tension in the room was anything to go by, then the spat wasn’t minor, and San is sure that Yunho knows that.

 

San’s heard Seonghwa shuffling out of their room at three in the morning after hours of muffled quarreling and found him sleeping on the floor of the living room, head dangerously close to the pistols and knives Jongho misplaces after missions. He’s seen the way they avoid talking to each other any more than they usually have to in front of the rest of them.

 

Yunho had spoken about it only once, when he mentioned that it wasn’t a team thing and that it was just a Seonghwa-and-Hongjoong issue. He’d been met with multiple protests, but he put his foot down and warned them not to get involved, and that was that.

 

San closes his eyes and tries to force his brain to shut down. He wishes he was like Wooyoung, who was snoring away on the bed on the other end of the room, pistol tucked under his pillow and a stuffed toy pressed against his cheek.

 

Must be nice to live in ignorance, he thinks, disdainfully, when he hears the sound of footsteps down the hall. If the clicking of heels are anything to go by, it’s Hongjoong and his atrocious habit of wearing fancy shoes everywhere.

 

San picks up on the voices as soon as they’re close to his room. It’s Seonghwa, clearly trying to keep it down and failing miserably because of how annoyed he was.

 

“You’ve got nerve trying to talk to _me_ about _sacrifices_ ,” he’s saying, and San finds himself clenching his fingers around the blanket to keep himself from hissing like the tone had physically wounded him. “I know what sacrifice looks like, and what I’m seeing from you is anything but. You’re being _cowardly_ , Hongjoong-ah, this has nothing to do with sacrifice.”

 

There’s a humorless laugh and the sound of shoes scraping against the floor. San can almost picture the expression of mock disbelief and thinly veiled anger on Hongjoong’s face as he turns around to look at Seonghwa.

 

“I’m not being cowardly, hyung.” San flinches. He’s never heard Hongjoong this venomous before. “You’re just being needlessly selfish. I told you I can’t stay, and — “

 

Seonghwa doesn’t even wait to hear out the rest of it. “Because it’s all _my_ fault that you’re abandoning the team without giving us an explanation, isn’t it? All I asked for was that you tell me why you took that mission without consulting anyone else when you know damn well that you won’t make it out alive.”

 

San lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. When you know damn well that you won’t make it out alive. That didn’t sound right.

 

“I don’t owe you an explanation for anything that I do.” Hongjoong says, and San wishes he didn’t hear Seonghwa stepping back like he’d been hit. “Let’s just not talk about this anymore. I’m tired of arguing.”

 

There’s a pause.

 

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand anyway, Hongjoong-ah,” Seonghwa says, and the clicking stops again, a few doors down, where the study is. San opens his eyes and strains his ears, and suddenly wishes he’d just fall back to sleep. “You’re not the one who’s going to have to bury an empty casket for the boy you love when he dies or goes missing on this mission that has no chance of survival. It’ll be _me_ who has to do that if something happens to you out there.”

 

There’s a sound distantly like a door clicking open.

 

“You’re not in love with me,” Hongjoong says. San hates that he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than he’s trying to convince Seonghwa. “Can you let that go?”

 

San thinks he can picture the two of them in the hallway, Hongjoong with his knuckles turning white around the handle of his door, his eyes blazing, guards up to shield whatever he was feeling on the inside. Seonghwa a few meters away, still in the purple sweater that used to belong to Yunho and the cat patterned pajama pants San had gotten him as a joke. Maybe he’s smiling bitterly, barely concealed hurt in his eyes, or maybe he’s just given up on trying to make himself feel better about it.

 

“That’s your mistake, Hongjoong-ah,” he says, after what feels like forever. “I couldn’t get you go if I tried.”

 

A beat.

 

Two.

 

“I don’t want to talk to you again, at least not about this,” Hongjoong says, and then the door shuts. It’s suddenly ice cold, and San can’t understand why.

 

San listens to the sound of a disappointed sigh before Seonghwa makes his way back to the living room. Tonight, he’ll fall asleep with his head unnervingly close to Yunho’s taser.

 

San exhales, the air feeling trapped in his lungs. In a while, Yunho will text from the next room, asking if he was awake, if he heard Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s conversation, if he wanted to talk if he was upset, if he had removed the pistol from under Wooyoung’s head. In a another hour or two, San will go outside to find Seonghwa still awake, or Hongjoong at the kitchen table working on his will or both of those at once, while Jongho watched them both like they’re ticking time bombs.

 

San closes his eyes.

 

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t sleep again.


End file.
